


Ride the Wave

by Nevermorexxx



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Underage Relationship(s), Joffrey Is A Cunt, Kink Exploration, Kinky, Mentions of Abusive Relationship, Mentions of non-con, Modern Westeros, Ramsay Is Also A Cunt, Sex Club, Stark Family Alive & Well, mention of prostitution, no sibling incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-18 19:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermorexxx/pseuds/Nevermorexxx
Summary: Sansa Stark desperately wants to know what having an orgasm is like and no matter how many different things she tries, nothing works. So, she has to enlist some professional help in the form of Petyr Baelish- her ex-uncle who owns Mockingbird, a fetish indulging sex club.Meetings are Fridays at 11pm. Don't be late.





	1. Session 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I ship a sunken ship and get wild inspiration on a sunny afternoon. I sit down and write nearly 9,000 words of _this_ in two days. My first Game of Thrones fanfic, 
> 
> Enjoy~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when I ship a sunken ship and get wild inspiration on a sunny afternoon. I sit down and write nearly 9,000 words of _this_ in two days. My first Game of Thrones fanfic, 
> 
> Enjoy~

Sansa Stark knows what her uncle does for a living. Her mother refuses it and her father just makes a face and scoffs when it’s brought up. She’s quite sure the only one who really knows is Theon who is probably one of Petyr’s best customers. She… has an interest, one could say, in getting to know both herself and her uncle a bit better. 

 

Friends of hers always bragged to her about what an amazing feeling reaching an orgasm is like and no matter how many different ways Sansa has tried she just can’t do it. She can get wet sure that’s not an issue at all. But that feeling of euphoria when reaching a peak? 

 

All she feels is a slight moment of high pleasure and then absolutely nothing. 

 

Besides, after her brief relationship with Joffrey, Petyr had been there to comfort her and though she would sooner die than let anyone in her family know about this, he had kissed her- not once but  _ twice _ through that time and he was all she could think of when she put her hand between her legs late at night. It felt wrong but Aunt Lysa had been dead for a few years now and Petyr had only been her “uncle” for such a short time. They weren’t related by blood in any way but her mother would probably ground her for the rest of her natural life and Petyr would never be able to step foot in their house again if she ever found out. 

 

Not that he really had since she had gotten over Joffrey. The older man seemed to have a similar moral conscience about what had transpired between them and he kept his visits brief, humoring Sansa’s siblings, speaking to her parents over wine, and passing along a brief smile to Sansa herself before being on his way. 

 

For a long time over the past year she had firmly believed he was making an effort to ignore her but as her thoughts went to him at night more and more frequently she realized that perhaps he was worried about what he would do or say in front of her family. She wasn’t even sure at this point that she could converse with him normally over dinner without her cheeks going into flames just from seeing her reflection in his eyes. 

 

So, she decided, she was going to have to go see him in his own environment. One that would avoid the uncomfort of family around them and allow them both to act as they pleased. 

 

Theon was shocked when she asked. 

 

“W-what? What do you want to go with me for?” 

 

“Please?” She begged. There was no way she was going to be able to get there by herself, Robb would turn around the moment he saw the LED lights of the sign, and she didn’t have her own car yet. 

 

“Why? You never ask to go anywhere with me.” He snapped, expression quizzical and suspicious. 

 

“Because! I want to go out and have fun tonight! Robb wouldn’t take me anywhere good and like you said we never hang out!” 

 

Theon’s suspicious look didn’t falter but he did let out a laugh. “We’ll hang out some other time, then. I’m going to the Mockingbird tonight and as much as I love you, I really don’t want to have a threesome with my sister.” 

 

He turned to leave and Sansa desperately grabbed onto his arm. 

 

“Theon, please. You won't even have to see me. Just take me there and I'll even find my own way back.” 

 

He sighed and pinched his eyebrows together in confusion. “I don’t even understand why you suddenly want to go there. And even if I agreed, which I won’t, your mother would be furious with me. They don’t even like that I go there alone.” 

 

“Theon,  _ please _ . I need to… to talk to someone there. It’s important.” Well… it wasn’t  _ that  _ important but Theon didn’t need to know that. 

 

He stared at her for a long moment considering and then spoke suddenly. 

 

“Is this about Petyr?” 

 

Sansa felt her mouth go dry. She really hadn’t been expecting him to put two and two together that fast. She was hoping he would have agreed a while ago and he would think to ask this question once they were already in the car together. 

 

Before she could even come up with an acceptable answer he was talking again. “Because every time I go there and see him, he  _ always _ asks about you. Never Catelyn or Robb or even Rickon.  _ Just you _ .”

 

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it even further. 

 

“Come to think of it wasn’t he around a lot more after you broke up with Joffrey and shut yourself up in your room for weeks?” 

 

This was bad. This was going very, very bad. 

 

Sansa didn’t really care if Theon knew the truth, he was a boy her father had taken in around the time she was born and though they could have been like brother and sister Theon made sure he kept a distance from everyone and had refused to change his name from Greyjoy to Stark. He was closer to Robb than anyone else but that was probably because Robb refused to take no for an answer. But he never told on any of the Stark children even if it ended up getting himself in trouble. 

 

The problem at the moment was that they were talking in the hallway and Sansa knew for a fact that Arya likely had her ear pressed up against her door listening. Her little sister had a knack for spying and an even better knack for blackmail. After all she had been the one to tell the entire family that Joffrey hit Sansa and that Sansa,  _ like an idiot _ , did nothing about it. 

 

“He… comforted me.” She tried and cringed and how tacky it sounded. “He’s good with advice, I mean. I realized what an idiot I was being about the whole Joffrey thing. I can confide in him about things that I wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about with my family. And I have something I need to talk to him about so can I  _ please _ come with you?” 

 

Theon rolled his eyes and Sansa had never wanted to hit him more than at that moment. 

 

“Can’t you just call him?” 

 

“I don’t have his number.” Sansa snapped in response. If she had his number she wouldn’t in this position in the first place. 

 

“Well, then can’t you ask Catelyn for it? They grew up together, I’m sure she’d have his number.” 

 

“I need to talk to him in  _ person _ , Theon.” Sansa reiterated, growing annoyed. 

 

He paused for a second, mouth open and ready to form a sentence but he glanced around behind her and thought better of it. 

 

“Fine. But you owe me big time for this. Catelyn will have my head if she finds out.” 

 

Sansa sighed in relief. “Thank you, Theon. I definitely owe you one.” 

 

“You owe me two, but let’s get going.” 

 

She closed her room door behind her, checking her appearance quickly in a hallway mirror. Theon and her walked to the front door, and it wasn’t until he had locked the door, opened the car and they both sat comfortably inside that he opened his mouth to talk again. 

 

“You’re fucking him aren’t you?” 

 

Sansa choked on the air that her lungs had been attempting to inhale. 

 

“Theon! W-what?!” She managed, barely keeping the panic out of her voice. She wasn’t, of course, but that Theon could come to that conclusion from her wanting to meet him was just… 

 

He laughed under his breath and threw the car into reverse. 

 

“I didn’t want to ask in the house- for obvious reasons. But you’re going to see him at the sex club he owns. There isn’t anything more suspicious than that. Fuck Catelyn finding out about me taking you there if you’re actually fucking him. How do you go from Joffrey to someone nearly twice your age?” 

 

“I’m  _ not _ fucking him.” Sansa spat through clenched teeth. Joffrey was a sore spot for her, everyone  _ knew _ he was a sore spot for her so why did  _ everyone _ insist on throwing him back in her face? 

 

“But you want to?” He jested, jabbing into her with his elbow. 

 

“I...I don’t…” She sighed, giving up. “Just shut up, Theon.” 

 

“No. I’m risking my own life by taking you to a  _ sex club _ to see your  _ uncl _ e who you may end up  _ fucking _ . If Catelyn knows I had  _ anything  _ to do with this…,” He sighed and shook his head. “Anyways, I at least deserve to know what’s going on.” 

 

A blush was already creeping up her cheeks as she thought of the reason she was doing all of this.  _ Seven hells, _ she was so stupid. But Theon was already driving and she had a feeling he really would tell everyone if she forced him to turn around now. 

 

“I want his advice on something.” She answered, simply. 

 

Theon glanced at her and snickered. 

 

“And what would that be? Your face looks like a bloody crab right now.” 

 

She remained quiet, focusing her gaze outside the window at the passing scenery. 

 

“Fine. Suit yourself. At least as Catelyn tortures me for information when she  _ inevitably _ finds out about this I won’t be able to tell her anything.” 

 

There was another beat of silence before he spoke up again. 

 

“He’s not…  _ forcing you _ into anything is he? Because if he is Robb and I will-” 

 

“Theon, will you  _ please _ shut up!” Sansa snapped, completely fed up with how annoyingly persistent he was being. 

 

“He’s not forcing  _ me _ into anything! I’m the one coming to him out of nowhere asking him to teach me how to have an orgasm because I’m fucking needy and pathetic and he makes me feel like a fucking person and not an object that can be broken. Okay?! Are you fucking happy now?”

 

Theon was looking at her in such shock he hadn’t even noticed that the light had turned green. 

 

“ _ Drive _ !” Sansa snapped, wanting to be anywhere but in this car right now. 

 

Theon turned his head back to the road obediently and pushed down on the gas. 

 

The club itself was located on the outskirts of town, far enough away from the suburbs but still close to the downtown area. It was at least a thirty minute drive but with the amount of tension in the car it felt more like three hours. 

 

Sansa nearly jumped out of the car as soon as it rolled to a stop in a parking space beneath the twinkling white lights of the  _ Mockingbird _ sign. 

 

“Sansa, wait!” Theon called, but she was already pushing the front door open. A pretty receptionist sat behind the white lacquer desk with the establishment name scripted out in a fancy silver font in the front. 

 

She raised a finely arched auburn eyebrow at Sansa. “ID and membership tag, please.” 

 

Membership tag? What the hell was that? She was so confident that she would immediately be let in as soon as she showed her ID that proved she was 18. 

 

She fumbled for her ID anyways, hoping that she could convince the woman that she was only here to speak with Petyr. 

 

ID found, she handed it to the woman who looked as unimpressed as a person could possibly get. 

 

“I need your membership tag, as well.” 

 

“I… Uh… Don’t have one…” Sansa stumbled, completely off-guard. 

 

The woman handed her back the ID. “Then I can’t let you in, sugar.”

 

“But I need to speak with Petyr Baelish? Can you just call him out here? I don’t actually need to go in.” 

 

“What for?” 

 

“Um…” 

 

The door behind her opened and Sansa was surprised she had completely forgotten Theon was with her. 

 

“Hey, Ros. How’s it going?” He greeted, stepping up to the desk beside Sansa. 

 

The woman smiled and leaned forward on the desk making her breasts spill out of her top as if they weren’t having enough trouble staying in to begin with. 

 

“ _ Theon _ .” She purred. “How nice of you to drop by.” 

 

“I didn’t think you were working tonight.” 

 

“Oh  _ please _ , we both know you only come on nights you  _ know  _ I’m working.” 

 

“Perhaps… or maybe I just have amazing timing.” 

 

Sansa looked between the two in bewilderment, they seemed to have completely forgotten that she was standing there, and there was so much sexual tension in the air that even she felt awkward. 

 

She cleared her throat to regain their attention. 

 

The woman,  _ Ros _ , looked over to her in mild annoyance. “I told you,  _ sugar _ , I can’t let you in if you don’t have a membership tag. Get going already.” 

 

“Oh, she’s with me Ros.” Theon supplied, flashing this supposed membership tag at the woman. 

 

The woman sighed. “You know I’m not supposed to allow plus ones.” 

 

“And when has what you're  _ supposed  _ to do ever stopped you?” 

 

“Fair enough.” The woman agreed but still looked suspiciously between Theon and Sansa. “I know you’ve got a thing for redheads Theon but isn’t this one a little young for you?” 

 

“Oh, are you jealous, Ros?” Theon quipped, reaching over the counter to touch her. 

 

She slapped his hand away and looked over Sansa with exceedingly judgemental eyes. 

 

“Of  _ what _ exactly? But fine. Just this once though. Get her a membership tag if she’s coming here again.” 

 

“Will do. Are you going to take a break later?” 

 

The redhead twisted a lock of her curly hair between her fingers, blowing a bubble with her gum. 

 

“No, Armeca isn’t here to cover my shift today. I suppose you’ll have to survive with the girls that  _ are _ available.” 

 

“What a shame. See you later, then.” 

 

“See you, Theon.” The woman cooed, going back to scrolling down her phone. 

 

Theon finally walked over to the large wooden doors that separated the front reception area from the rest of the club and Sansa eagerly followed behind, glad to be done with that conversation. 

 

Theon turned to her right before opening the door. 

 

“Listen, I know that you really want to talk to Petyr.” He whispered. “And at this point I’m not going to bother trying to stop you. But I have to repeat that this is a _sex_ _club_. Not some fine establishment that serves top notch chardonnay and hors d’oeuvres. I don’t know what you’re expecting to see behind these doors but it’s much, much more vulgar than whatever you’re imagining. There’s a reason that Catelyn and Ned never talk about what Petyr does for a living. If anything tries anything yell the word _help_. Don’t just scream because trust me, you’ll get nobodies attention that way. Try not to make eye contact with anyone, because people take that as a sign to come onto you. I trust you to make good decisions tonight and if you want to go home immediately, call my phone and I’ll get to you as soon as I can, alright? I’m already regretting bringing you here but be safe and use protection, okay? Okay.” 

 

And before Sansa could even begin to respond Theon opened the door and pushed her forwards.

 

The stench of sex is what hit her senses first, the tangy unmistakable smell of aroused genitalia and bodily fluid. 

 

Then the images of what was playing out in front of her made its way to her brain where it was processed and formed into understandable pieces.  _ People in various states of undress were having sex everywhere she looked. _ The woman closest to them was kneeling on the floor as a man thrusted into her backside and another man thrusted into her mouth. To the left of them in the dimly lit area with several chairs and other contraptions a man’s face was buried in the ass of another man and two women were watching near them, hands moving furiously between their legs. In the main area with rugs and loveseats and sofas several different groups of people were fucking in ways Sansa’s own imagination would never come up with and down hallways on either sides of the room light spilled out from partially closed doors. 

 

Next to occur to Sansa was the cacophony of moans and squeals, screaming and slapping, panting and growling. There was bumping music as if they were in the middle of a club that added to the almost dizzying amount of noise. It was all so much, too much, more than she had ever expected to see and more than she had ever hoped to see. It was as if a mass orgy was playing out in front of her and she didn’t even know that that was a real thing people actually participated in. 

 

“Sansa!” Theon was calling her. She wasn’t sure if it was the first time he had called her or the twentieth as she had no idea how long she had stood there taking all of it in. 

 

She turned to him. 

 

“Petyr’s office is up there!” He shouted over the noise, pointing up at the second floor which acted more as a balcony than an actual floor. There were two sets of stairs near the two hallways that each led upwards to the door at the top of the balcony of which glowing yellow light shone out through the frosted window. 

 

“Okay!” She shouted in return. People seemed to have noticed their entrance and two women, one blonde and one brunette, sauntered over to them. 

 

“Theon!” They cried in excitement. “You’re late! We thought you weren’t going to show!” 

 

“Of course I would show up, who would miss the two of you?!” Theon laughed, wrapping his arms around the two barely clothed women. 

 

“Who is this?” The blonde purred, reaching out at playing with a lock of Sansa’s hair. Sansa must have made a face, for the woman retracted and turned her attention completely back to Theon. 

 

“Is she joining us tonight? I like the look of her.” The brunette spoke. “She looks like a  _ virgin _ .” 

 

“No, she’s not joining us.” Theon clarified, turning his attention back to Sansa. “Are you going to be alright on your own?” He asked, gesturing towards the office door above them. 

 

“I’ll be fine!” Sansa confirmed, eager to get away from the semi hostile and semi interested looks of the girls hanging off of him. 

 

Theon nodded and began walking away, Sansa could hear the giggling of the girls way after they left her sight. 

 

Although, she had told Theon she would be fine, she wasn’t sure how truthful that had been. Her legs felt as though they had turned to stone and she was terrified to look up and lock eyes with one of the patrons in the room. She could already feel the curious glances of some of the people around her and cursed herself for wearing the cutest jeans she had. They made her ass look great and her legs look sexy and she was beginning to think she wasn’t the only one who thought so. 

 

She steeled herself by taking a breath and forced her legs to move and set herself in the direction of the stairs. 

 

Unfortunately fate had another plan for her, and a half dressed man stepped in front of her, blocking her path. 

 

On instinct, she apologized and moved to walk around him but he sidestepped into her way again and she was forced to remove her gaze from the floor to look at him. 

 

“Oh, I am so sorry about that.” The man laughed. “Just can’t stop being in the way, can I?” 

 

He was younger than she expected him to be. Something about this place just made it feel like it would be crawling with perverted fifty year old men and not completely normal twenty year olds. If you could call this completely normal. He had short, wavy brown hair and a bit of stubble coating his jawline and upper lip. His icy blue eyes were piercing into her along with the slight smirk he wore as he looked at her. Really, the only strange thing about him was the fact that he was only in his underwear, which she could clearly see his erection through, and the menagerie of red lipstick stains in the shape of lips all over his torso and neck. 

 

“It’s quite alright, excuse me.” Sansa muttered, moving to go around him again. But once more he side-stepped and was in her way again. Her heart dropped to her stomach in nervousness as she realized he was doing it on purpose. 

 

“Gosh, I really need to stop doing that. So, sorry about that. Actually I could have sworn I just saw you with Theon. Great lad that one. Popular around here. I’ll have to have a go at him myself, I reckon. See what all the fuss is about. Is he any good for you?” 

 

“Any… what?” Sansa asked, regretting the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. She was playing right into this man’s trap and she knew it. 

 

“Any good in bed, love? Or out of it? As you can see we aren’t really into beds here.” He laughed.

 

“Oh… n-no. We’re not- I’m not…” She stuttered, completely blindsided by the assumption.

 

“No?” The man echoed, a humored lilt to his voice. “And here I was believing that he had a thing for redheads. And what a pretty thing you are, what a waste.”

 

“W-we’re just friends.” Sansa opted to say, wanting to avoid the fact that they were family from this man, for some reason it just seemed like the wrong thing to say. “He brought me along as a favor and I really need to-” 

 

“ _ Ramsay! _ ” A girl whined noisily and the man’s face flashed with vivid annoyance before he turned in the direction of the offending sound. A brunette girl, who was completely nude, had walked up behind him and draped her naked body over him. 

 

“What’s taking you so long? I’m getting lonely over here.” The girl whined again, nibbling on the man’s ear. Her lips had the same red tint that covered his body in ruby kisses.

 

“Myranda, love, can’t you see I’m talking to someone?” The man spoke through clenched teeth. Sansa wasn’t sure about the relationship between the two but it was obvious that the man in front of her,  _ Ramsay was it? _ , was barely holding back his anger for this Myranda. 

 

At the mention of it, Myranda’s eyes shot over to Sansa, raking over her face and figure just like those two girls had done before except Myranda barely showed any reaction. 

 

“I can see that. Although, I can’t imagine why. You’ve left me alone for too long and I started to get bored. I’d already gotten four fingers in before I decided to come and find you. You wouldn’t want to miss out would you?”

 

Ramsay grimaced but turned an apologetic smile in Sansa’s direction. 

 

“Excuse me, duty calls, it was a pleasure meeting you…” He paused as he waited for her to supply her name. 

 

“Sansa.” 

 

“ _ Sansa _ , a beautiful name. My name is Ramsay. A pleasure meeting you, I hope to run into you a few more times in the future.” He smiled again, and took his leave. The girl with him, Myranda, shooting daggers at Sansa with her eyes as they walked away. 

 

She hoped she wouldn’t ever run into them again. 

 

With that strange altercation over, Sansa moved on quicker feet to the stairs and up them before anyone else could try hitting on her. 

 

Now that she was finally standing in front of the door with Petyr likely a few feet away her nervousness and insecurity about her actions returned viciously. She still felt like a huge idiot for thinking it was a good idea to do this at all. But she had come this far and she wasn’t one to back out after she was already committed. 

 

Raising a hand, she knocked firmly on the door. The music and the moaning was so loud she wasn’t sure the knock was even able to be heard let alone any response from the other side so she knocked again just in case. 

 

She heard a faint voice call out from inside the office and prepared herself for who would coming out of it. 

 

Although, no amount of preparation would have been adequate for the way her heart flopped when the door slowly opened and revealed the man himself, shrouded in gold light, features curious and then confused, and the slight pursing of her name on his lips. 

 

“Sansa?” He questioned as if he couldn’t believe she was actually standing there in the flesh, and honestly she couldn’t believe it herself.

 

“What are you doing here? Did Ros let you in? I keep telling her to stop letting in young girls just because they’re pretty if they don’t have a membership tag. Actually, how did you get here at all? Was it Theon? Is he still here? Call him and tell him to take you home,  _ now _ .” 

 

“Petyr.” Sansa breathed, moving in closer to wrap her arms around him and pull him into a hug.

 

“I came because I wanted to talk to you.”

 

He hugged her back after a moment, hesitant, and clearly bewildered. 

 

“Sansa…” He sighed. “Come inside.” He led her back into the office and shut the door behind them. 

 

The office was dimly lit but smelled of him and the clean, forest-y scent of his cologne. Two chairs sat in front of the big mahogany desk, a chaise lounge sat in the corner of the room and in the other corner sat a mini fridge and a storage unit full of snacks. 

 

Petyr tiredly sat down at his office desk, gesturing for Sansa to sit down at one of the chairs. 

 

“Sansa, I really appreciate the visit. But your mother will have my head on a pike if she found out you were here. You’ve been out there, you’re aware this isn’t a normal club. Why did you come all the way here?” 

 

Now put on the spot, Sansa fidgeted. She wished that they were still hugging so that she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him because doing so was draining her of all her resolve. 

 

“I... had something important to talk to you about.” She mumbled avoiding his curious gaze. 

 

“Why couldn’t you have just called me? If you said it was urgent I would have rushed over to your house as soon as I could.” 

 

Sansa fidgeted again, a blush returning to her cheeks. She was kicking herself for thinking this was a good idea. Any normal person would have just called him and asked to speak privately. This… interrupting him while he was working and witnessing his sex club first hand was just… crazy. She had gone completely crazy. 

 

“I… well… I wanted to talk to you face to face and I just… I didn’t want anyone to overhear.” She risked a glance to gauge his expression and she concerned to find that he was beginning to look worried. 

 

“Overhear what exactly, sweet girl? What was so important that you came here of all places just to talk to me?” Petyr stood up from his chair then, walking around the desk and coming to a stop in front of Sansa, kneeling down so she had virtually nowhere to look to avoid seeing him. 

 

He took her hand and cradled it between the two of his. 

 

“Joffrey isn’t bothering you again, is he?” He asked tenderly, looking up into her red face with all the concern of a loving parent. 

 

“ _ No, _ no he isn’t. This has nothing to with Joffrey.” She replied quickly. She wanted to just hurry up and say it so that the mortification of it could be over with and they could move on, but the words just wouldn’t come out of her mouth. How was she supposed to just say something like that? 

 

“No?” Petyr mused, squeezing her hand softly. “Is this about a different boy, then? Some other young fellow causing this lovely bird grief?” 

 

She felt horrible that he was being so patient with her even though she was sure he had a million other things to be doing. She needed to just spit it out, he wouldn’t judge her, he hadn’t even pitied her when she told him about all that Joffrey had done to her. That hitting her was just something he did when he lost his temper, nevermind what he did in a good mood. 

 

“It isn’t. There isn’t anybody else.”  _ But you _ , she wanted to say but the words got caught in her throat. She wanted to kiss him, looking into those mossy green eyes and the warm but curious expression on his face. No, actually she wanted  _ him  _ to kiss  _ her  _ so she could show him what she wanted without having to say any of it. 

 

“Alright… so is this something about yourself then, Sansa? Something you wouldn’t your young and intuitive sister to hear?” 

 

She nodded, unable to focus on anything now the thought of kissing him again had invaded her mind. 

 

“Dove, you realize that I can’t actually help you if you don’t tell me what the problem is?” Ah, he was beginning to lose patience already. She just needed to say it, just push the words out, worry about the consequences later. 

 

“F-Friends… of mine are always talking about how good it feels and I just- can’t. No matter how many different ways I try I just can’t get there and it’s infuriating! I knew what you did for a living and I figured if anyone could h-help me… it would be you.” 

 

Sansa squeezed her eyes shut and looked away from him, pure humiliation coating every fiber of her being. 

 

Petyr was silent for a long moment, lightly massaging her hand with the two of his, seemingly lost in thought. 

 

“...What exactly can you not get to, Sansa?” His voice had taken on a raspier edge and Sansa’s eyes flew open at the sound of it. 

 

Petyr’s expression was dark and captivating and she barely thought about it before the word slipped through her mouth. 

 

“A-an orgasm.” 

 

His expression grew even darker, furrowed brows shadowing hooded lids and she’d only seen him make that expression a few times but even to someone who never knew him it’s meaning was clear as day.  _ Lust _ . 

 

He detached himself from her hands and stood, pacing back and forth behind her for a minute before seating himself on the top of his desk and looking down at her. 

 

“An… orgasm. You’ve never had one before is what you’re trying to tell me?” 

 

She nodded, throat gone dry as cotton as she looked up at him. 

 

“And you’d... like for  _ me _ to help you achieve one?” 

 

She nodded once again. 

 

Petyr looked over her curiously, licking his lip absentmindedly.

 

“Why?” He asked shortly. 

 

_ Why _ ? Was he really going to make her spell it out for him? Well, fine. If that’s what it was going to take. He hadn’t shooed her out yet or forced her to call Theon so it wasn’t going horribly. 

 

“I was aware of the kind of club you owned and what kind of things you’d be aware of that I likely wouldn’t. I obviously can’t ask Theon and I… well we… have something between the two of us, don’t we?” She felt pathetic phrasing it like that but if there really wasn’t anything between them and Petyr had kissed her in the heat of the moment or really had taken pity on her she wanted to know now rather than later. 

 

“Do we?” Petyr echoed with a smile. “And here I thought it was entirely one sided.” 

 

“I… took advantage of you while you were weak and in need of comfort.” He continued. “I should not have done what I did those few times. I never would have thought you would come to me like this for anything, ever. I believed I had to take what I could and be done with it. For that, I apologize.” 

 

He stood, then. Taking a step forward and reaching for Sansa’s hand, pulling her up out of her seat and closer to him. 

 

“That being said, are you certain you want to do this? You could do so much better than me, a man nearly twice your age and owner of a club like this.” 

 

Sansa shook her head then, stepping closer to him until their bodies were just barely touching. 

 

“I want  _ you _ .” She whispered. 

 

She barely had time to react before his lips were on hers and his hands were wrapping around her head and waist, pulling her even closer as if he was scared he was dreaming and she was going to vanish. 

 

She returned the kiss for the first time, being too confused and startled the last two times he had initiated it. She leaned into him and he cocked his head to deepen their connection, ran his tongue across her top lip, creating a sensation that had her weak in the knees. Sensing this, Petyr quickly turned them and lifted her bottom onto the desk, moving in between her jean clad legs and clutching her ever closer to him. 

 

They broke away for air briefly but Sansa was leaning back in immediately, wanting to taste more of the evergreen on his tongue and be enveloped in the mint and woodsy scent that was Petyr Baelish. This time she was meeting his tongue with hers and they rubbed the hot muscles together for a moment before Petyr was exploring the inside of her mouth with his, licking across her teeth and retracting only to nip at her bottom lip. 

 

He pulled away after a moment and they were both panting wildly, undoubtedly turned on but neither wanting to take anything too far. Sansa could see in the fierce way his eyes burned into hers that he wanted nothing more than for her to be rid of her clothes, and honestly, if he asked her to then and now she would have. 

 

But he didn’t. Instead, he pressed another chaste kiss to her mouth and backed away, dropping himself into the chair that she was previously seated on and staring up at her like a disciple would at a shrine. 

 

They were both quiet for a long moment before Petyr decided to speak up again. 

 

“So, what have you tried?” 

 

“Pardon?” She asked, perplexed by the sudden question. 

 

“Touching yourself, darling. Attempting to achieve an orgasm. What have you tried?” 

 

“I-I told you, I’ve tried everything.” She could feel her face heating once again, and tried to fight down the embarrassment, she would need to try being more open with him. 

 

He let out a soft chuckle at that. “ _ No _ , my dear, if you had tried  _ everything _ you surely would have had one by now.” 

 

“Well… everything that I could think of.” She corrected. 

 

“Would you mind telling me  _ exactly _ what you’ve tried? I’d like to make a list of potential options and it’s a complete waste of time if you’ve already done them before.” 

 

Sansa swallowed nervously. “Um… fingers, obviously.” 

 

“How many?” Petyr asked, reaching behind her for a pen and a tablet of paper. 

 

She could feel her face going even more red. She reminded herself that she asked for this and took a deep breath. 

 

“Three.” 

 

“Why only three? Are you opposed to more?” 

 

“N-no… it’s just that two felt amazing and just as I thought I was getting there I added in another and then  _ nothing _ . I usually only use two.” 

 

Petyr looked at her for a long moment and she could tell he was fighting back the urge to test out three fingers himself. But he seemed to shake that off. 

 

“Would you be okay with fisting if we tried it?” 

 

“F-fisting? What…?” 

 

“Fisting is inserting the whole hand up until the wrist into the vagina. Many women find it enjoyable if they’re prepared thoroughly.” 

 

Sansa’s eyes were wide as saucers as she looked up at him.  _ How could anyone find something like that enjoyable!? _

 

Petyr seemed to notice her discontent. 

 

“Listen, we don’t have to try everything. That’s why I’m asking you. I wouldn’t suggest anything that would hurt you or cause you permanent harm. Preparation and communication is important, I will be trying my hardest to provide you with both. So please don’t think about whether what I’m suggesting will be uncomfortable or not. If you don’t outright hate the idea then I suggest you at least attempt it. I have a feeling you need more extreme stimulation to reach a peak, which is perfectly fine but you need to see what works for you and what doesn’t.” 

 

It made sense. Sansa nodded, “Okay.” 

 

“Feel free to ask if you don’t know what a term means. If you absolutely don’t want to try something give me a hard no, if you aren’t sure give me a maybe and if you’d like to try it give me a yes, alright?” 

 

“Alright.” Sansa agreed. 

 

“Okay, how about a vibrator?” 

 

\---

 

They continued on like that for what felt like hours. In the dimly lit room with the music blaring downstairs over the cacophony of other noises it was impossible to tell what time it actually was and how much time had really passed. 

 

Petyr had pages of options written down and Sansa’s embarrassment had reached a point that she couldn’t even feel it anymore. After her and Petyr had had a long discussion about dildos and the sizes, types, and specification of them she was positive her cheeks couldn’t get any redder. It was embarrassing revealing all of this to him but comforting that he wasn’t judging her for any of it. In fact, whenever she mentioned something especially raunchy that she had tried, he got that same lusty look on his face that had her wondering if he was getting hard from all of this. 

 

“One last question then, darling.” His voice had taken on a more serious edge and she furrowed her brows in anticipation of the question. 

 

“Are you a- Excuse me, I’d like to be clear about this. Have you ever had penetrative sex?” 

 

Anger bordering on rage bubbled up to the surface and Sansa frowned. 

 

“Why are you asking me that?” She spat. “I already told you about everything that Joffrey did to me and he was my first boyfriend.” 

 

Petyr sighed and put the pen and paper down. “I know, sweetling. I’m aware that the reason he got so angry with you was because you refused to have sex with him. I’m asking if you’ve ever been penetrated with a penis in your vagina before. I apologize for having to ask so explicitly.” 

 

Sansa frowned even further, “If you know, then  _ why the fuck _ are you  _ asking me _ ? You know that he forced things into me without my consent and that he got a fucked up sense of pleasure when he made me bleed. It was my  _ punishment _ for not being loyal enough to him. Then he decided he didn’t even  _ want _ me and started fucking some older woman dumb enough to be charmed by him.” 

 

“Sansa. I know. I’m sorry he-” 

 

“If you  _ know _ then  _ why _ are you forcing me to retell it to you!? How about I start from the beginning and we can talk about how fucking stupid I was to feel special to him, to feel worth something greater because he  _ chose _ me?!” She cried, hot tears sliding down her cheeks. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Petyr breathed, kneeling down to cradle her face in his hands and using his thumbs to brush away her tears. “I’m only trying to ask if he ever forced  _ himself _ onto you.” 

 

Sansa shook her head and sniffled as the urge to cry overtook her. “No, he almost did o-once but he decided fucking someone who wasn’t willing was just an annoyance and used other stuff on me instead.” 

 

“I'm sorry for bringing it up.” He muttered into her ear, cradling her closer in a hug, rubbing comforting circles on her back. 

 

She latched onto him, a perfect replay of how telling him for the first time was like, and stayed that way until her tears stopped. He was the only one who really knew what Joffrey had done to her. She knew that if she told anyone in her family that the whole situation would blow even further out of proportion and Joffrey would only be angrier with her. Besides it was bad enough that everyone else treated her differently she couldn’t stand it if her family started doing the same. Well… more than they did already.

 

Sansa retracted from him then, wiping away the traces of wetness on her face. Petyr brought up a hand and moved a loose strand from her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

 

She looked up at him into those tender mossy green eyes. He looked like he wanted to kiss her but as she leaned in to initiate it first he pulled away completely- standing up and walking behind his desk. 

 

She tried to ignore the sting of rejection and turned her head to look at him. He put the paper he had been writing on into a drawer and locked it with a key he procured from his pocket. 

 

“So, Theon brought you here, yes?”

 

An obvious change of subject.

 

“He did.” 

 

“Is he planning on taking you home?” Petyr asked, fiddling around with some stuff on his desk. 

 

“I… told him that he didn't need to worry about it. He's probably… busy anyways.” 

 

Peter chuckled lightly. “I'm sure he's  _ very _ busy.” He pulled open his computer and began typing something. 

 

“Well, I can't leave until the club closes at four am. And it's… just after half past one.” 

 

Sansa sighed and checked her own phone.

 

Robb had texted her wondering where she was, thankfully nothing from her parents yet. There were a few group messages with her friends from school that were blinking with notifications but after everyone found out about the horrors of her ex-boyfriend all they had for her was pity. One of her closest friends had even called her a complete idiot for staying with him for so long as if she knew what it was like to be dating the lion. 

 

She texted Robb back saying that she went out with Theon for some actual fun, praying that Theon hadn't told Robb his plans for the night. 

 

“Would it be bad if you returned home around five in the morning?” Petyr asked. 

 

Sansa thought for a second. “It would be bad if I didn't come back with Theon. I just let Robb know I was with him.” 

 

“So, do you want to wait for him then?” 

 

“I basically forced him to take me here, I'd feel bad if I made him leave early. He knows I'm up here anyways.”

 

At that Petyr paused what he was doing and Sansa turned to look at him. 

 

“He knows you're up here with me?” He asked, a certain tension in his voice that Sansa hadn't heard in it before. 

 

“Yeah… It’s not like I wanted him to know, he just refused to take me so I had to tell him some of it. He just managed to guess the rest.” 

 

Petyr’s eyes narrowed and he shut his laptop closed, fixing her with a hard look. 

 

“Sansa, you realize that your mother can  _ never _ find out about this, right?” 

 

“Of course, I know that! I don’t want any of my family to know, I just couldn’t avoid Theon finding out. He’s not going to tell anyone.” 

 

Her heart was pounding suddenly, the look on Petyr’s face made it seem like he was having second thoughts about the whole thing. 

 

“Maybe this isn’t the best of ideas… I can get someone else to help you. Perhaps Ros or Armeca… I can trust those girls with my life. It wouldn’t be a problem for them to help you out.” He began, already picking up his phone and dialing a number. 

 

“Petyr!” Sansa cried, standing up and snatching the phone out of his hand. “Stop it!” 

 

“I don’t mind if you decide to end things with me,” That was a complete lie but he didn’t need to know that. “But please don’t start pushing me off on another people. I want to try with you or I don’t want to try at all.” She was scowling now and placed his phone on the desk face down. 

 

Petyr was silent for a long moment, pinching the bridge of his nose in agitation. 

 

“Fine. Come here once a week, on Friday nights just like today. Make sure Theon brings you and that you go back with him, he’ll be your alibi if anyone wonders where you are. Come straight up here and try to avoid talking to anyone. As much as I love my customers they’re horny bastards and you’re far too beautiful to be here alone. I’ll let Ros know so don’t worry about getting a membership ID, I don’t want you to have one anyways. If you don’t have one then as per the rules of the club nobody can lay a finger on you.” 

 

She attempted to ignore the way him calling her beautiful made her feel but the flutter in the pit of her stomach was impossible to ignore. 

 

“Okay… Should I bring anything?”  _ A condom, maybe? _

 

She didn’t say the words but it was like Petyr heard her say it anyways. 

 

“No, I’ll supply everything that will be needed.” A yawn escaped Sansa’s mouth before she could control it and Petyr smirked. 

 

“I guess it is past your bedtime, isn’t it?” He teased.

 

She glared at him. “I don’t have a bedtime, I haven’t had one since middle school.” 

 

“Right, right. My apologies.” He laughed. “Feel free to sleep on the couch there, I’ll wake you up when the club closes.” 

 

She glanced at the simple grey piece of furniture. Originally she had assumed it was for less than wholesome uses but now…

 

“Do you  _ sleep _ in here?” She asked, turning her attention back to Petyr. 

 

He shrugged. “Sometimes if I’ve had a long day, staying up until 4 or 5 in the morning doesn’t sound like the best idea. I usually set an alarm and let someone know in case something happens, but yes, I do sleep in here on occasion.” 

 

As he talked, Sansa walked over to the chaise lounge and sat down, moving around until she was comfortable. 

 

“Well, I guess I’ll try to get some sleep, then. Please don’t try anything strange while I do.” She had intended that last part to be an annoying joke, a tease, but the dark way Petyr’s eyes flashed at the words made her heart flutter with nervousness. 

 

“I can’t promise anything.” He replied lightly, but his eyes still hadn’t lost that look as they grazed over her. 

 

Sansa shut her eyes then, trying to block out all the naughty imaginings of her mind, and attempted to get some sleep. 

 

\---

  
  
  


She heard voices as she began to come to. Bits and fragments of heavily familiar accents that made no sense to her fog clouded mind. 

 

“-fun?” 

 

“Sure looks like-” 

 

“-let Ros know.” 

 

“-long has she been sleeping?”

 

“A few hours now-” 

 

“-Wake her up or not?” 

 

She sighed, opening her eyes and letting them focus on the dark ceiling above her. After her vision cleared she turned her head and saw the source of the two voices that she had been hearing. Petyr and Theon. 

 

“Oh, she’s awake.” Theon exclaimed, walking over to the little couch that she had been sleeping on. 

 

“Come on, we need to get going. Don’t make me carry you.” As he got closer Sansa could smell the scent of sweat, sex, and a flowery perfume. 

 

She sat up, rubbing at her eyes and letting out a yawn. 

 

“What?” She mumbled groggily, completely confused with the situation. 

 

“The club is closed. We need to get back, Robb keeps calling me and it’s getting annoying. Come on,  _ up _ !” He reached for her arm, helping her to her feet. 

 

She looked around and saw Petyr standing at the door and watching the two interact with an unreadable expression. 

 

Self consciously, she released herself from Theon’s grasp, grabbing her phone from the couch and started toward the door. She looked up at Petyr as she passed, meeting his eyes and wishing he would kiss her goodbye. She knew he wouldn’t though. Not in front of Theon. And that theory was proved true when he simply nodded at her and bid her goodnight. 

 

Theon followed her out and the door closed behind them. 

 

The two walked down the stairs where most of the patrons had cleared out, it seemed like some staff was assisting some people in standing and waking up others that had passed out. Some other members of the staff had towels and antibacterial spray and were wiping down the floor and furniture. 

 

The man that had confronted her earlier was nowhere to be seen and she was glad for it. Something about him seemed too intense for her to handle even if he meant well. 

 

Theon and Sansa remained quiet, shuffling through the lower floor and out into the reception area where Ros was nowhere to be seen. Sansa briefly wondered if she had, in fact, taken a break and spent some time with Theon earlier but they were walking out of the front exit before she could dwell on it. 

 

It was becoming light out, the hints of sunrise- reds, pinks, and purples, blooming over the horizon as the sun came up. It was an odd feeling walking out of the club which had no windows and only dim artificial light. 

 

Theon unlocked the car and opened the door for her from the inside when he climbed inside. Sansa shuffled in, the dredges of sleep still holding her in a zombie-like state. 

 

Theon turned the radio on and set it to a quiet volume likely for some background noise so he wouldn’t succumb to tiredness and he drove. And though Sansa thought she was going to be able to go back to sleep for a while as he drove she was proven wrong when Theon began to talk. 

 

“So… how was it?” He asked, hesitantly, and Sansa was reminded of how well their earlier conversation had gone. 

 

“How was what?” She mumbled, irritation seeping into her voice at the ruin of a potential nap. 

 

“Petyr? Your first… you know what?” Theon supplied, sparing a glance at her.

 

Her face blushed a wild red. “Theon! We didn’t do anything! Why do you want to know anyways? Isn’t it weird to hear something like that from your sister?” 

 

“Well… yeah. But just like  _ Uncle Baelish _ we’re not related in the slightest, anyways.” 

 

Sansa didn’t bother responding to that as he had a point but he didn’t need to hear that. 

 

“So… really? 6 hours alone with him and absolutely nothing happened?” 

 

He already knew just about everything, no point in hiding it. “Well not absolutely nothing. We made out a little bit and just talked about some things and then I got tired and went to sleep.” 

 

“Aw, that's  _ boring _ . I wouldn't think he would be such a gentleman.” 

 

“And how about Ros, Theon?” Sansa asked, deciding to fight fire with fire. 

 

“What about her?” Theon responded. 

 

“Are you fucking her?” She had been expecting him to be surprised but he merely laughed. 

 

“When she lets me, yeah.” 

 

“When she lets you?” Sansa echoed, confused.

 

“She's got a bit of a mean streak in her. Enjoys playing hard to get too much. Thinks both too little and too much of herself at the same time. She used to prostitute for Baelish back in the day, before he got the swanky club. Oh-  _ shit, _ don't tell anyone I said that. I'm really not supposed to know about that.” 

 

Sansa raised an eyebrow at that and tried to digest the information. Petyr used to pimp women? What the hell? She would have to bring that up with him later. But right now something else was occurring to her. 

 

“You like her, don't you?” 

 

“Well, yeah. You've seen her, how could I not fall in love with that? Not that I'm in love with her or anything, just how could I not be attracted to her, you know?” 

 

Sansa looked at him from the corner of her eye and snorted.

 

“You're a horrible liar.” She commented, snuggling deeper into the seat of the car and closing her eyes. 

 

“What? I'm not lying!” 

 

She didn't bother responding. 

 

“I'm not!” He repeated. 

 

But she was already fast asleep. 

 

_ \--- _

 

When they returned home, Robb was more pissed than anyone else. Often he was more like a father than her actual father who was always gone away on business. Her mother was awake and busy getting ready for work and getting Bran, Rickon, and Arya ready for school. 

 

Robb was yelling at Theon for being so irresponsible and taking Sansa with him  _ wherever they went _ to until the arsecrack of dawn. Theon had merely laughed it off and Sansa helped him out by saying she had fun. 

 

Robb was still convinced that she had been underage drinking because she was so tired but eventually their mother had stepped in, essentially telling him to shut up since it was so early in the morning and to be glad that Sansa was even leaving the house at all. 

 

Her and Theon exchanged a grin at the small win and headed into their bedrooms. 

 

As Sansa fell onto her bed, completely exhausted, she realized that she had forgotten to get Petyr’s number. She fumbled for her phone in frustration but was surprised to see that she had an unread text from a contact with a bird emoji. 

 

Frowning, she opened the text, 

 

_ Next Friday @ 11 _

 

_ Don't be late.  _

 

“Petyr…” She breathed, a surge of joy overwhelming her. Thank goodness he had thought to get her number. 

 

He also sent a picture with a caption. 

 

_ ;) I told you no promises.  _

 

Opening the picture, she saw a small drawing of a mockingbird on a branch similar to the pin Petyr wore. 

 

As she looked closer at the picture she saw a bit of grey fabric and dark hardwood. And when she zoomed into the picture she saw the green line of underwear peeking out from under the waistband of a pair of jeans. 

 

_ Wait a second _ , she thought- mind racing. 

 

She lifted up her shirt and sucked in a breath when she saw the same mockingbird drawing etched out in ink on her skin right near her hip. She smiled despite herself and turned her attention back to her phone. 

  
_ Thanks for the free tattoo, I might go make it permanent.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this please let me know, I have so many ideas for this story but I'd like to know if I'm the only one that wants this, haha. I ship them too much. I've never done this before but if you have suggestions for Petyr in regards to Sansa's training please let him know. I'll pass on the message.


	2. Session 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you guys enough for all of the love last chapter! So much love to everyone <3
> 
> Also if any of you love Petyr Baelish as much as I do and want to experience more of the beauty that is Aiden Gillen- I highly suggest you check out his show from the 90s "Queer as Folk" (UK) which is free for streaming on Amazon and full of fetus Aiden Gillen and a lot of gay men. 
> 
> Anyways enjoy the second chapter of Ride the Wave which I have only just realized is a very unintended pun that works beautifully with this story. 
> 
> *As a side note: Keep an eye on the tags, I will be updating them as I go. I don't like putting warnings at the top of chapters since they kind of spoil it but there are cunts in this story so please take this as your official warning*

The week that followed was the purest form of torture that Sansa had ever experienced. Nearly every minute of every day she was filled with anticipation for the weekend. Days seemed to go by at half speed, clocks seemed like they were never changing and the more she thought about the upcoming weekend, the more nervous she became, and the more nervous she became, the more anxiety she felt. 

 

She had recently graduated from high school and had been accepted to several of her choice colleges. Initially, she had wanted to move far away where nobody knew the skeletons in her closet and she wouldn’t flinch every time someone mentioned the Lannisters. But she would be alone in a foreign world with no one to watch out for her and that thought scared her more than accidentally bumping into the prestigious family while walking into the mall. 

 

So, she had settled for her fourth choice of college. Still highly rated but not nearly prestigious enough to have the Lannister family anywhere near it. Her parents had been happy about it, though she suspected they were more happy about not having to worry about out of state tuition prices. The estimates for schooling in Dorne were astronomical and her mother had nearly fainted when they went over it together. 

 

Besides, there really wasn’t any point in paying so much money when she didn’t even know what she wanted to do. She often thought that she had known herself a lot better before she started dating Joffrey but honestly, she’d never had any inclination of what she wanted to do. Robb had always been into politics and everyone knew he would go into law since he was in nappies. Jon hadn’t really known what he wanted to do either but he had been introduced to the army when he was about fifteen and now he was already a Lieutenant. Theon hadn’t even bothered going to school but nobody ever expected anything of him anyways, though Sansa wasn’t sure if she should have been jealous about that or not. But even Arya knew what she wanted to do, she had been taking martial arts classes since she was five and for the past nine years she had been saying that she wanted to serve in the secret forces. She’d probably end up doing it too, because that’s just the sort of person her sister was. 

 

But Sansa? The  _ governor’s daughter _ , female counterpart to Robb, the  _ golden child _ . The one who was expected to do even better than Robb, get better grades, get better scholarships, have a better job, have a better life because all a parent could want for their children was  _ better _ . 

 

Sansa didn’t have the slightest fucking clue what she wanted to do. 

 

She thought she wanted to be a princess growing up, be courted by the handsome prince, get her rescue from the dragon, and have her happily ever after. But now she realized all she had wanted to be was a  _ trophy wife _ . 

 

Sit still, look pretty, smile, and pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. Support her husband and make sure he always shone brighter than her, dim herself and make herself smaller so that he could be bigger. Pop out golden haired child after golden haired child and live on the nicest house on a cul-de-sac, try to show up the women around her because  _ how dare _ they think they were better than her? Stay at home and take care of the kids, grow old and send them off to college. Make big holiday dinners and buy the newest toys for her spoiled grandchildren. Die and have a larger turnout at the funeral than any of the women in her sewing club.

 

The thought made her physically ill now. 

 

She wanted to  _ do _ something,  _ be _ someone. Make a larger impact on the world than continuing a family line. But she had spent so much time daydreaming that someone would do it for her that she had no idea how to do it herself. 

 

So, she got a job at a coffee shop to feel better about herself and so that she could spend time out of the house for the summer and escape the constantly worried expression her mother wore when they looked at each other. 

 

When Arya had announced that Joffrey hit Sansa to everyone at the dinner table months ago, there had been silence and Sansa could still remember what happened after as if it were yesterday. She had never felt so angry and humiliated before in her life. 

 

It had been a rare occasion where everyone was actually home for once- her father recently back from a business trip and Jon taking a week off. Sansa had fixed her eyes downward, into her lap, though she could still feel the gazes of her family boring holes into her head. 

 

At the silence, Arya, fourteen at the time and still possessing no tact whatsoever, persisted.

 

“It’s true!” She had cried. “I was walking ‘round the school with my mates during lunch and I saw the two of them standing over by the back steps. I was planning to tell on them, because you aren’t allowed to be over there, and Sansa was being a  _ twat _ this morning. And as I was looking on, Joffrey yelled something at her and backhanded her across the face! Hard enough to knock her over! She didn’t even do anything! Just stood up again, clutched her hand to her face, and nodded and then Joffrey walked away. It’s probably even bruised and she just covered it up, _ just like an idiot _ .” 

 

Sansa was sure her sister had meant well, that she was just angry at Joffrey for doing something like that, she had never liked him anyways. But Sansa hadn’t ever hated someone like she hated her sister in that moment. 

 

“... Is this true, Sansa?” Her mother had asked, cautiously, carefully, as if she didn’t really want to hear the answer.

 

Sansa had kept her gaze focused in her lap, blinking back hot tears, and clenching her fists. 

 

“ _ Sansa _ .” He father had boomed when she didn’t respond. Her face shot up then, eyes like a deers in headlights. 

 

“Answer your mother.” He demanded. With her head up, she looked around the table and saw the concerned gazes of everyone. Arya was frowning at her; and even Rickon -way too young to understand what was going on- was looking wide eyed at her. 

 

Her heart was pounding out of her chest but she was trying so hard not to cry. She knew it would be worse for her if she didn’t answer so, composing herself as much as she could, she opened her mouth, 

 

“He didn’t. Arya is lying just like usual.” She managed, gritting her teeth together. 

 

“No, I’m not!” Arya cried, incredulously. “Why are you covering for that twat!? He  _ hit _ you!” Then her attention went to their parents. “I swear he hit her hard enough to leave a bruise! I always see her putting on your makeup, mum! Check her face! I’m not lying!” 

 

Sansa glared at her sister furiously, but her head whipped around when she heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. 

 

“Alright, let me see then.” Her father said, grabbing a napkin from the table and dampening it in his glass of water before walking over to Sansa. 

 

She was panicking at this point, her entire family was about to find out how horrendously pathetic their golden child was, and it was all thanks to Arya. 

 

“No!” She shrieked, jumping out of her chair. “She’s  _ lying _ he didn’t. I  _ swear _ , he didn’t.” 

 

Ned had faltered for a second, furrowing his eyebrows. 

 

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, Sansa. Calm down. I just want to take off your makeup so we can prove Arya’s lying, alright?” He spoke, slowly stepping closer to her. 

 

“I’m  _ not _ lying!” Arya insisted. 

 

Robb shushed her and stood up as well, walking behind Sansa and gingerly placing his hands on her shoulders. She thrashed around for a moment, trying to break out of his grip but he was stronger than her and she didn’t want to make herself look anymore suspicious. 

 

Her father was right in front of her now and he held her chin, bringing the damp cloth to her face. 

 

Her mind was racing with ways to get out of the situation and she was positive she was hyperventilating with the effort of trying to not panic as well as trying not to cry at the same time. 

 

She was blinking rapidly and looking anywhere but into her father’s eyes and he gingerly removed her makeup. 

 

He reached her right cheek and she flinched at the pain, causing Robb to grip her shoulders harder and her father to frown. 

 

“Ned…” Her mother whispered, standing now. 

 

Her father didn’t speak or react again until he had removed all of the concealer she had painstakingly applied and threw the damp napkin onto the table. 

 

Her mother’s eyes went wide and she held up a hand to her mouth. 

 

“Ned...!” She gasped. 

 

Sansa knew all too well what they were seeing, the swelling of her skin right below the corner of her eye, the red splotches surrounding it, the purple hue where his ring had connected with her face right above her jaw. 

 

“I j-just… walked into something. It’s fine.” She tried, knowing it was already far too late. Robb had released her shoulders and walked around her to look into her face and she could see the anger on his face when he saw. 

 

“Sansa,” Her father spoke up, his voice a hard edge that cut into her. “Did Joffrey hit you?” 

 

She shook her head wildly. 

 

“Of course not!” She squealed, her voice going several octaves higher. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s my  _ boyfriend _ .” 

 

She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. He had hit her across the face so often by then that it wasn’t even close to the other trauma he had caused her. But they had been together for almost two years. She  _ loved  _ him. And he… well he…. 

 

She didn’t want anything to change. She had been so _ good _ at hiding everything, so  _ perfect _ at pretending everything was fine. Joffrey would be disappointed in her. He would  _ hate _ her for this. 

 

She felt arms around her distantly and vaguely realized that she had begun to seriously hyperventilate and went into a panic attack. 

 

“Go!” Her mother was crying. “To your rooms, all of you!” 

 

“But I haven’t finished eating!” Rickon whined. 

 

“Take it in your room with you, now go!” 

 

Catelyn had shooed everyone to their rooms for the night, only allowing Robb to stay and outright refusing when Jon argued that he should stay as well. 

 

That night Sansa had sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Her parents were furious and for some insane reason Sansa had thought that they were angry with  _ her _ . It wasn’t her fault, she had thought she had been so thorough. If Arya had never said anything they  _ never _ would have been the wiser. 

 

They had forced her to shower and poked and prodded at her until they revealed all of the recent bruises she had. One on her wrist that was almost always there because Joffrey insisted on pulling her everywhere. And a few others around her neck that she refused to explain to them. 

 

Really, she refused to explain anything to them, which only made them more frustrated. When the night was over all they knew was that Joffrey had hit her across the face for what may or may not have been the first time, that he grabbed onto her wrist too tightly, and that he may have attempted to strangle her. 

 

For them that was enough and it was all Sansa could do to beg them not to kill Joffrey, sue the Lannisters, or anything worse that they were coming with. 

 

She couldn’t, however, stop them from forcing her to break up with him and pressing charges. At the beginning of her last year of school she had a restraining order against him and the wrath of the Lannisters against her family. Robb had been forced to change university even though he was going to his dream school because the Lannisters were the main benefactors. Her father lost out on a promotion due to all of the controversy. And Sansa faced ridicule from everyone around her, doubting her claims that  _ the Joffrey Baratheon _ had laid a hand against her even though she was beyond lucky to ever have had him in the first place. Her friends outcasted her, her teachers were biased against her, and on top of everything she had mandatory counseling that did nothing more than make her feel even worse. 

 

Petyr had been the one to help her through all of it, offering his non-judgemental ear, and allowing her to speak when she wanted and say nothing when she wanted. If it hadn’t been for him just  _ being there _ when she needed, she wasn’t sure if she would have ever left her room again. 

 

All of this weighed on her mind for the entirety of the day, friday. Well… that and a few other things. 

 

She had received her first paycheck earlier on in the week and almost immediately spent it on a new pair of lacy white underwear. It had taken her hours to decide on a pair in the shop, long enough that the representative who had been helping her became frustrated and basically demanded that she buy something or leave the store. Initially she had been thinking about buying a black set but then the white caught her eye and something inside her said that Petyr would appreciate the color more. Not that she was buying them for him. They were definitely for herself. 

 

...It would just be nice if he liked them is all. 

 

To say that she was nervous was an understatement. She couldn’t sit still, pacing, bouncing her leg, redoing her hair every time she saw it in a mirror, and reapplying her lip gloss every five minutes because she kept biting her lip anxiously. 

 

“You’re a mess.” Theon commented, standing in her doorway that night. 

 

She rolled her eyes at him and looked in her vanity mirror once again, tousling her hair. 

 

“You look fine, _ please _ don’t change your outfit again. We need to get going.” 

 

Sighing, Sansa stood, readjusting her shorts and making sure her shirt was tucked in properly. She had whipped out her favorite party outfit, not that she actually ever went to any parties, sequined shorts with both green and black flecks and a white chiffon shirt. She debated trying to braid her hair again but opted against it, liking the wavy look of her hair when it was loose. 

 

“Fine, yeah. Let’s go.” She passed Theon at the door and walked down the hallway. 

 

She was just about to open the door when she heard a voice shout from the kitchen. 

 

“Hey!” It was Robb, Sansa sighed and waited for him to walk out. 

 

“Oh for fucks sake.” Theon cursed under his breath. 

 

When he rounded the corner he looked between the two suspiciously. 

 

“What are you all dressed up for?” He asked. 

 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “We’re going out, obviously.” 

 

“Seven hells, is everyone but me going out tonight?” He exclaimed. “Rickon and Bran went to friend’s houses, Arya is probably over at Gendry’s, and Mum went out to visit uncle Edmure, Roslin having the baby soon and all.” 

 

“How about you go see that girlfriend who strangely puts up with how bloody annoying you are?” Theon teased. “I worry about her, I really do.”

 

“Oh  _ haha _ ,” Robb laughed mockingly. “Tally’s off visiting her parents in Volantis.” 

 

“Likely to get away from you.” Sansa remarked, causing both of them to look at her strangely. She hadn’t been in a joking mood in a long time so it wasn’t like it was an unwarranted reaction. 

 

“Yeah, probably.” Robb agreed with a grin. “So, where are you two off to? Mind if I tag along?” 

 

Sansa couldn’t help glancing over at Theon who happened to glance at her as well. 

 

“Um…” She began, though she had literally no idea what she was going to say. 

 

“We’re going to that club, the Arrowhead, you know the one you nearly got thrown out of?” Theon supplied, bailing Sansa out. 

 

“It’s not my fault if some idiot wanted to fight me because I accidentally bumped into him.” Robb snapped.

 

“You were  _ pissed _ Robb. Probably the worst I’ve ever seen you. You nearly knocked that fucker down and didn’t even realize you did it.” Theon laughed. 

 

Sansa had no idea what they were talking about, looking between the two in confusion, she wasn’t even aware that Robb drank. 

 

Realizing this, her older brother looked over to her. “Don’t tell anyone about that. I have an image to uphold.” 

 

“But anyways, alright, I’m gonna stay clear of that club. Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

 

“But Robb we’re going out specifically to  _ have fun _ .” Sansa teased as Theon opened the front door. 

 

Her older brother rolled his eyes, retreating back into the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a boring old man. I get it.” 

 

Sansa snickered and followed Theon out the door and into his car. 

 

“Well, you’re in a good mood.” He commented, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street. 

 

She shrugged with a smile on her face despite herself and Theon glanced at her above the car before he unlocked it and they got in.

 

“So, does your… training or whatever the hell you’re calling it start today?” He asked, glancing over at her once again. 

 

She nervously looked down at her lap, seeing the green and black sequins shine and reflect the light from the passing street lights, all too aware of both what she was getting into and also what she was wearing underneath those shorts. 

 

“I guess.” She muttered. 

 

Theon took the hint that she didn’t want to say anymore than that for once and turned up the radio. 

 

The drive was quiet, supplemented by off and on small talk over the hum of some old rock song and the rumbling of the car. 

 

The streets were flooded with traffic, as they often were at this time of night on a Friday so the drive was long and longer than usual since they kept missing nearly every light. Eventually, they arrived and Sansa’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she saw the twinkling sign of  _ Mockingbird. _

 

She let out a sigh to calm herself, and though she saw Theon glance at her as they parked, he remained silent. Sansa opened the car door and stepped out, already cursing the fact that she chose to wear heels. Why she kept purposefully wearing things that drew unneeded attention to herself she would never know. 

 

Theon opened the club door for her, so She walked in and was met with none other than Ros; the snarky, auburn-haired, large chested woman that Theon was in love with. 

 

The woman who, upon seeing Sansa, immediately rolled her eyes. 

 

“Oh great, it’s you again.” She whined dramatically. 

 

“Be nice, Ros.” Theon chided as he walked in behind Sansa. 

 

“Does she have a membership tag now?” Ros questioned, eyebrow raised. 

 

“No.” Theon answered, leaning against the desk. 

 

“Then, I don’t have to be nice.” She retorted with a smirk, crossing her arms. 

 

“It’s kind of hot to see you jealous of someone.” Theon grinned, leaning over the desk. 

 

Ros made a face at him and leaned in closer to him, letting nearly her entire breast spill out of her shirt with the exception of her nipples. “Why would I ever be jealous of a little girl? These tits could feed a village.” She laughed. 

 

“That they could!” Theon laughed and even Sansa snickered despite herself. “But really it’s such a turn on I almost don’t want to tell you that she’s my sister.” 

 

Ros stopped smiling then, a completely perplexed look on her face as she glanced over at Sansa and then back over to Theon. 

 

“Your sister?” She echoed. 

 

“Aye. Her and one other, along with three brothers.” Ros hummed thoughtfully at the new information but as she looked over at Sansa there was far less hostility in her eyes. 

 

“You don’t look shit alike.” She announced, as if it weren’t obvious. 

 

“We’re not flesh and blood-” Theon attempted to explain and Ros cut him off before he could finish. 

 

“What then? Is she a sister in your sex covenant?” 

 

“ **No** -” Sansa spoke up at the same time as Theon and the two looked at each other awkwardly. Ros was not impressed. 

 

“ _ No _ ,” Theon repeated. “Her parents adopted me a short while after she was born. We’re not flesh and blood but we’re family so  _ be nice _ , alright?” 

 

Before Ros could speak again the huge wooden door leading into the main area of the club opened, bringing the cacophony of noise in before it closed once again. A medium skinned woman walked out from the corner. 

 

“Theon.” She greeted when she saw him, eyes glancing over Sansa but not bothering to acknowledge her. Her accent was different, affected in a strange way but still obviously from here. Perhaps she had some sort of Dornish heritage. 

 

“Armeca. Is my shift over?” Ros asked.  _ Armeca _ , Sansa had heard the name a few times but now she was finally able to put a face to the name. 

 

“Yes.” Her dark brown eyes raked over Sansa once again. “Is this the girl Baelish was speaking of?” 

 

“The one and only.” Ros answered sarcastically. She was collecting a few of her things and stood up, walking around the desk. 

 

“Aren’t you supposed to introduce her to Clegane?” Armeca asked, trading places with Ros and sitting down at the desk. 

 

Ros sighed. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me. I almost forgot. Petyr would have been pissed. I’ll send him over. Theon, come on.” 

 

“Clegane?” Sansa questioned, grabbing onto Theon’s arm when he started to walk away. 

 

“It’s the guard, you’ll be fine. Now if you’ll excuse me…” She let go of him hesitantly, only completely letting go when Ros glared at her from behind him. Theon walked through the doors with her to do who knew what, leaving Sansa alone with Armeca. 

 

There weren’t any seats in the “reception” room so Sansa nervously paced back and forth until Armeca spoke up. 

 

“Who are you?” 

 

Sansa stopped her pacing, completely confused. “Sansa.” She answered, although she realized only after giving such a stupid response that that wasn’t what Armeca had meant. 

 

“Not your  _ name _ . Mr. Baelish has never given so much attention to a woman before. He has been going on and on all week about making sure we do this, and introduce you to this person, and make sure you do that. He has never done something like this before, so I am curious. What is your relationship with him?” 

 

Sansa was a little surprised to hear something like that. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he invited girls up to his office all the time or doted on other pretty redheads the same way he always doted on her. It had never crossed her mind that she may have been a special case. Even so, it was probably only because they had been family at one point in time. He was probably just trying to be a good uncle… although now she was pretty sure he might be the worst uncle to exist so it was a good thing that he wasn’t anymore. 

 

And saying that she was his niece didn’t sound like an appropriate answer at all. 

 

“Um… We’re… friends?” She stated it like a question, which caused Armeca to raise an eyebrow. But honestly, she had no idea what her relationship was to Petyr currently. 

 

Disciple?

 

It wasn’t like they had some wholesome relationship or even that they were dating, so what was she supposed to say? 

 

“Friends.” Armeca echoed. “And here I thought Ros and Mr. Baelish were friends.” 

 

Sansa wasn’t sure what that meant and before she could ask, the door opened once again and the thump of heavy boots rang out in the small room before a large man rounded the corner. 

 

She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips at the sight of him, the burn scar that overtook nearly half of his face and the instant recognition. He looked equally as surprised to see her. 

 

“What the  _ fuck _ are  _ you _ doing here?” She demanded, backing away from him.

 

“Working. What the fuck does it look like?” He answered in that gruff and gravelly voice that she remembered so clearly. 

 

_ The Hound _ . The loyal dog to the Lannister family. Joffrey’s personal bodyguard. Standing here, in front of her in the Mockingbird. What were the fucking odds? 

 

“Are you… What…” Panic was lacing around her heart in icy tendrils, sending ice into her bloodstream and causing her to back even further away. “Where is he?  _ Is he here _ ?” She asked, nearly whispering as she looked around for the head of golden hair as if he was going to suddenly materialize. 

 

“What the fuck are you on about? That little Lannister fucker? I don’t work for those cunts anymore.” 

 

Sansa had spent a lot of time with him when she was dating Joffrey. He was fully aware of all of the horrible things Joffrey had done to her, since his entire job was to shadow the little lion and make sure nobody hurt him. At first he had been told to wait outside when Joffrey took Sansa into his room and did what he wanted with her. But when Joffrey was in a good mood he would invite the Hound inside and force him to watch what was done to her. It had been humiliating to be seen like that and she had always screamed louder, cried harder, which of course turned Joffrey on even more so he did it more and more often until it was almost always. The Hound didn’t always just watch though and sometimes he stepped in when he felt Joffrey was seriously hurting her, especially when they were out in public. He had saved her from further abuse so many times when he didn’t even have to and she didn’t even know his actual name. All the Lannisters ever called him was “Hound” or “Dog”. 

 

“You’re… Clegane?” She asked softly, the initial panic subsiding but still leaving her with the shaky feeling of unused adrenaline. 

 

“Yeah. Sandor Clegane. Not the fucking hound and not fucking  _ dog _ .” 

 

“...Sorry.” Sansa apologized, although it’s not like she ever called him that so there was nothing to apologize for. 

 

“For fucking what? Anyways, don’t tell me that you’re the one Littlefinger is asking me to look out for.” 

 

“Littlefinger?” She repeated, confused by what that meant.

 

“ _ Baelish _ .” Sandor answered irritatedly. 

 

“Oh.” Where the hell did  _ littlefinger  _ come from?

 

“She is.” Armeca answered suddenly, having remained silent for the entirety of the conversation. 

 

Sandor glanced over at her and then grimaced as his attention turned back to Sansa. 

 

“Not that it’s any of my fucking business but you have  _ shit _ taste in men. And to be fucking honest you shouldn’t bloody be here. But like I said, it’s none of my damned business. Come on.” He turned and walked back into the main area of the club, and Sansa hurriedly followed him. 

 

“Ugh, fucking reeks in here.” Sandor muttered, and it was only because Sansa was so close to him that she could hear him over the noise. 

 

He glanced over his shoulder at her and scowled. 

 

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Go on up.” 

 

Now she was really confused. “Aren’t you going to go with me?” 

 

His scowl deepened. “I don’t fancy threesomes that involve little girls and old cunts.” 

 

Sansa frowned in disgust. “ _ No _ ! Aren’t you supposed to escort me or something?” 

 

“Listen, little bird. I don’t get fucking paid enough to walk you around. We were supposed to meet just so you would know my ugly fucking face and I would know yours if anything were to happen. Now  _ run along _ .” He shoved her in front of him and it was all she could do to wildly struggle for balance in her heels and not fall flat on her face at the sudden movement. She turned to glare at him but he was already walking away. 

 

She huffed, smoothing out her hair, and began walking in the direction of Petyr’s office.

 

Though, as she walked she swore she heard Theon’s name and glanced over in the direction it came from. Which would have been a mistake in itself if she actually saw whoever called out his name like that, because she would have needed to bleach her eyes immediately but instead as she looked around she met eyes with that same guy from before.

 

_ Ramsay _ . 

 

It was as though time stilled as they looked at each other. He was with a blonde this time, a hand on her head, pushing her down as he fucked into her from behind. He was staring directly at Sansa as he thrusted, teeth clenched together as he sucked in a breath, his eyelids fluttered closed for a brief second, and then he thrusted again, harder this time. His hand fisted in the blonde’s hair and he tugged on the strands, wrenching her neck back and revealing her face as she moaned openly. And then his hips were twitching, short brief thrusts, as he tilted his neck back and his face contorted. 

 

_ Did… did he just…?  _

 

And then the brunette from before was crawling over, following Ramsay's gaze and glaring when she saw Sansa.

 

Sansa managed to tear her eyes away and nearly walked straight into someone. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t help but feel like she had just witnessed something she shouldn’t have and got caught doing it. She walked on shaky legs up to the office, knocking her fist harshly against the door. 

 

Her eyes flitted over the crowd below as she waited, hoping and failing to locate Ramsay again. She just couldn’t rationally explain the simultaneous urge to be pulled towards him and run away. She was pretty sure he had been watching her for at least a few seconds before she turned towards him and he had fucking  _ stared at her _ as he came. Her cheeks were blushing wildly just thinking about that. If there was ever a way to come on to someone without words he had mastered it.

 

Fortunately, her attention was pulled back to where it should be as the door opened and Petyr stood, encased in the glow of the room behind him. 

 

“Good evening.” He smiled, eyes raking down her body before reconnecting with her eyes. Her heart did a flip flop at the obvious ogle but she smiled just the same and walked into the room as he stepped aside. 

 

She stood in the center of the room unsure of what to do with herself as Petyr closed the door behind her. His arms went around her as he reentered the room, pressing a kiss to her temple and grazing her face with his stubble. 

 

“Take a seat.” He instructed, walking around her and sitting behind his desk .

 

Sansa obeyed with a smile, glad to temporarily be away from the torture that were her heels.

 

“So, you met with the security guard?” He asked, relaxing back in his chair. 

 

Sansa frowned at that, nearly having forgotten all about that ordeal. “Um… yes, I did. He… He was Joffrey’s bodyguard when we were dating.” 

 

Petyr’s cheerful face fell almost immediately. 

 

“ _ Seven hells _ ,” He swore. “I completely forgot Clegane used to work for the Lannisters. He started working here nearly six months ago. I am so sorry, dove, I would have warned you beforehand if I had the decency to remember such an important thing. Are you not comfortable with him? Should I hire someone else?” 

 

“No, of course not. I couldn’t ask you to do that and it’s fine. I just…” She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. “I was surprised. I thought  _ he _ was here…” 

 

“I would never let that piece of trash into my establishment, Lannister or not. Believe me, when I say that. So… are you acquaintances with Clegane?” Petyr asked, concern evident on his face. 

 

“I suppose. He was nice to me and stopped Joffrey when he was going too far. It’s just… Joffrey usually made him watch when he hurt me.” 

 

“I see… Well, he does his job well and I haven’t had many problems with patrons since he’s been here. But if anyone is bothering you out there I just want you to know that there’s someone who will step in on your behalf. I’ve asked him to specifically watch out for you when you’re here so you should be fine.” 

 

Sansa’s mind wandered to what Armeca had said about Petyr doting on her more than he ever had with anyone else and the weight of that was beginning to sink in, filling her with a warm feeling. 

 

“So, how has your week been?” She asked, eager to change the subject to something less morbid. 

 

“My week? Busy as usual. It takes much more work than it looks to keep this club up and running as well as decent as it can be. It’s not exactly  _ legal _ , you see. And I have a lot of deals to make as well as people to call to keep it open.” 

 

The word legal had triggered a memory in Sansa’s brain. The story that Theon had told her about Ros last week. 

 

“I’m sure. Is it more or less work than running a prostitution business?” Petyr sighed and lowered his head for a second before looking back up at her. 

 

“I see that some people have been flapping their gums about things that happened long ago.” He stated. 

 

Sansa frowned and continued. “So, you  _ admit _ that you used to pimp women?” 

 

“I did.” Petyr openly admitted, resting his elbows on the desk. “I was young and stupid and desperate for money. This town didn’t always hide it secrets behind closed doors and it’s not as if I forced anyone to do anything that they didn’t want to.” 

 

“And why have you never told me about this?” 

 

Petyr chuckled. “It didn’t exactly come up in conversation. It’s not something I’m necessarily proud of but it got me to where I am now. The sex business is always booming, dear Sansa, and people will always pay for debauchery.” 

 

“And you make money off of it.” Sansa was aware she was being overly judgemental, something Petyr had always made sure to not do to her but it was hard for her to just accept that the man she was interested in used to facilitate women selling their bodies to old perverts. 

 

“If I don’t, someone else will. It doesn’t stop existing just because I have nothing to do with it. Though, I do appreciate your confidence in my abilities.” 

 

Sansa bit her lip, staring at the stripes of coloration in the hardwood floors. She had come to him knowing full-well what kind of club he owned, so something like this should have been expected but it was still a little bit of a shock. 

 

At her continued silence Petyr sighed and opted for a change of subject. 

 

“So, how was  _ your week _ , dove?” 

 

“Boring.” She answered, just as ready for the subject change. “I started working at the coffee shop by the grocery store down the street from our house earlier this summer. That’s really all I’ve been doing, at least until fall rolls around again.” 

 

She was happy really for any chance to get out of the house and with college starting up soon she was really looking forward to going even if it was her fourth choice of school. 

 

“What happens in fall?” Petyr asked, frowning in confusion. 

 

“Oh, college starts. So, I’ll be a bit busier with classes and all.” 

 

“Ah… college.” He responded, an odd lilt to his voice that would have seemed reminiscent if he weren’t making such a sullen expression. 

 

“I’m going locally,” Sansa smiled. “So I’ll still be around, you won’t have to deal with missing me terribly.” 

 

Petyr smirked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Cheeky.” He stood then, walking around the desk and perching on it. 

 

“So, shall we get started? Of course, that is only if you’re still sure you want to do this.” 

 

Sansa’s heart went into overdrive but her resolve hadn’t changed in the slightest. She undid the buttons of her chiffon shirt, peeling her arms out of it in a way that she hoped looked sexy and draped her shirt over the back of her chair. 

 

“I’m sure.” She stated, returning her gaze to him. Though he definitely wasn’t staring into her eyes. 

 

The lingerie set that she had chosen was a lacy white with small white bows on the straps. The bra itself had a slight push-up which made it as comfortable as it did make her breasts look fantastic. And judging by the slight opening of Petyr’s mouth as he stared at her in awe, he agreed. She was determined to prove to him that she wasn’t the child he had known. She had grown up and was a woman now. 

 

“ _ Petyr _ .” She called when a long moment had passed. He lifted his eyes, licking his dry lips, as if he had been roused out of a daze.

 

“...Well, you certainly seem sure. That… is- wow. Exquisite.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. 

 

Sansa couldn’t help but to nervously giggle. It was obvious he liked it so mission accomplished, but she hadn’t been expecting that much of reaction from him. 

 

He stared at her for another long moment, absentmindedly stroking his mustache and goatee. 

 

“Do… does the other…? Do they… do they match?”

 

He was barely making any sense but Sansa understood the question. She unbuttoned her shorts and unzipped them, sliding them down her legs and hanging them over the chair with her shirt. Her face was blazing, but the hungry way Petyr was looking at her was fueling her confidence and reassuring her that she looked as sexy as she felt and she stood from the chair, strutting into the center of the room. 

 

She felt Petyr’s eyes on her backside and twirled around so he could get the full 360 view. When she was facing him again, he had stood from his seat on the desk and was approaching her. She barely had time to react before he had cupped her face in his hands and was pressing his lips to hers. This kiss was nothing like the ones they had shared before, Petyr was  _ aggressive _ , not tender or kind or passionate. He was turned on. By  _ her.  _ She had caused him to be like this and she was struggling to control her smiling as he crushed her body into his, hands wandering down the expanse of her back, down her hips and over the hill of her ass. 

 

She gasped a little at the coldness of his skin on the back of her thighs and, as it was making it's way there already, his tongue was in her mouth in an instant. She sighed at the intensity which came out of her mouth as a moan, causing Petyr to clutch her closer, sliding his leg in between hers. Her heart pounded in her chest when she felt a hardness pressing against her leg and realized what it was. 

 

Sansa was lifted suddenly, and on instinct she wrapped her legs around Petyr’s waist as he took a few steps and then she was set down on the chaise lounge and Petyr was kneeling at her feet. 

 

They were both panting heavily, and Sansa lifted up a hand to toss her hair back and keep it from falling further onto her face. Looking down at the fully clothed man, Sansa desperately wanted him to take off his suit jacket and ravage her. 

 

“I am…  _ so _ conflicted.” He spoke after a long moment, idly running a hand up and down the skin of her knee. 

 

“I want nothing more than to rip that  _ fantastic _ lace from your body. But you are such a vision wearing them, that I don’t know what to do.” 

 

Sansa was sure she was blushing wildly, as she always did when he complimented her, but she felt powerful,  _ sexy _ , neither were things she had ever really felt before and they were making her  _ bold _ . She felt no embarrassment when she inched her legs apart until Petyr could fit in between them.

 

“I’m glad that you like them.” She smirked. 

 

Petyr grinned in response. “Like? I adore them. I must say, though, that I was most definitely not expecting this. It’s the most pleasant surprise I’ve received in a long while.”  

 

“So,” He continued, seemingly calming down from his lust induced frenzy and back into the professional disposition that she was used to. “I think that we should start simple, and work our way up. I’m not certain that simpler methods are going to work but I want to determine if someone else doing them has any impact.”

 

Sansa was tempted to ask what exactly that meant but instead opted for being surprised herself. 

 

“Okay.” She agreed. 

 

Petyr looked up at her for a few seconds, likely expecting her to ask him to elaborate but when she didn’t he nodded and his gaze dropped from her eyes. 

 

A cold finger traced down the strap of her bra and the finger turned into a hand cupping her covered breast and squeezing briefly. Sansa watched as Petyr’s hands snaked their way to her back and unhooked the strap, pulling the material as the hands retracted and taking the bra off completely. He threw the lingerie behind him and leaned into her, kissing her on the mouth briefly before trailing kisses down her jawline, neck, and into the crest between her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat when his mouth strayed from that line and latched around a nipple. 

 

He licked over the sensitive nub, teasing it with his teeth before moving on to the other side. While he was doing that, his free hand snuck between her legs, rubbing against her center. The knuckle on the underside of his hand was applying slightly more pressure when the finger ran across her clit and she sighed at the pleasure. She was sure her lacy panties were soaking with wetness and she’d never been so turned on before. 

 

Petyr nipped at her nipple once more before his hands went back to her hips and his fingers hooked under the sides of her panties, he glanced up at her as if to check if she was okay with what he was doing and she nodded jerkily, her heart jumping up into her throat. Petyr’s eyes returned to her lap and he slowly pulled the underwear down, lifting Sansa’s heeled feet out of them. His gaze then went up to her center and she shifted uncomfortably. 

 

It was the worst time for it but her mind was going wild with fragments of memories of the last time she was naked underneath someone and she had begun to shiver. Petyr noticed this immediately and looked up at her, taking a hold of her hand. 

 

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern evident in his voice. 

 

Sansa took a deep breath, closing her eyes, firmly reminding herself that it was  _ Petyr  _ in front of her and that she trusted him. When she opened them again she nodded. 

 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

 

Petyr rose, capturing her lips in another kiss. “Don’t apologize. Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

 

He was still holding her hand when he ducked back down, pushing her legs open wider. She felt the warmth of his breath pluming out against her, and then he was leaning forward and a warm and wet muscle was licking at her folds. 

 

She gasped in surprise which quickly morphed into a moan when his tongue spread her apart and lapped against her clit. 

 

“Petyr…” She sighed, tossing her head back and reaching out with her other hand to hold his nape. 

 

He breathed out a laugh against her, and leaned back into her, she could feel the scruff of his stubble against her which only made it feel that much more real. 

 

His tongue was flicking back and forth over her clit, mouth closing around it and sucking, drawing out loud gasps and moans from her that she had no hope of containing. It was the first time anyone had ever done this to her and she understood what all the fuss was about, on top of that Petyr seemed like a certified professional and it felt  _ amazing _ .  

 

Her pleasure was mounting rapidly, and she was practically squirming in the cushions of the chaise lounge, gripping onto Petyr’s hand so tightly it must have hurt and shoving his head further into her center. 

 

His own hand was tight on her thigh and he was beginning to stray from her clit, going all the way down to her entrance licking at the pool of wetness that was leaking out and back up. 

 

Sansa was nearly incoherent, muttering his name over and over between her gasps and moans. 

 

Petyr, in response, tongued around her entrance; poking the muscle inside slightly with each lick and her back was arching, pleasure heightening until she was so  _ sure _ that she was going to orgasm finally that when all of it suddenly faded away as it had so many times in the past and she was left reeling. Gasping, and panting but with no sign of release despite all of that build up. She wanted it even more now and she bucked up into Petyr’s mouth, hoping that more pressure would get her there but it was gone, over. Had disappeared like thief in the night and she was left empty and wanting. 

 

“Petyr. Petyr, stop.” She said finally, giving into defeat. 

 

The older man obediently retracted from her, a wet sheen over his lips and glistening in his facial hair. 

 

Sansa sucked in a breath at the obscene sight but frowned in disappointment. 

 

“What is it?” He asked, perplexed at the sudden shift of attitude from her. 

 

“It happened again. I was so close,  _ right there _ , and then nothing.” She snapped, wiping her sweaty forehead and sighing frustratedly. 

 

“Nothing? Did it not feel good?” He asked, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. 

 

“Of course it felt good!” Sansa cried, instant embarrassment at saying it out loud causing her cheeks to burn. “I mean… it was great. Thank you. But it’s just like I was saying I always get right there and then it all drains away like someone pulled the plug out in the sink.” 

 

“Interesting.” Petyr mused thoughtfully. He stood then, and Sansa could clearly see his arousal through his trousers. 

 

He began walking towards the connecting bathroom and she frowned in confusion. 

 

“What are you doing?” She asked. 

 

“Oh, just give me a moment.” He dismissed, closing the bathroom door behind him. She could hear the sound of rushing water and frowned even more. 

 

But it was chilly in the room and she didn’t want to catch a cold sitting there arse-naked. With a sigh, she stood on shaky legs and retrieved her underwear and bra, slipping them on after ridding herself of her heels which she was surprised had managed to stay on so long. She then walked over to the chairs in front of Petyr’s desk, pulling on her shorts and pushing her arms through the sleeves of her shirt, not bothering to button it closed. 

 

By the she was mostly dressed again, Petyr came out of the bathroom looking refreshed, and the very obvious hard-on he had going in was nowhere to be seen. 

 

They met eyes and Sansa looked away, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted in a way that didn’t sound too childish. 

 

“I could have… done something.” She muttered. “Helped you… with… that.” An awkward gesture to his crotch. 

 

He smirked at her briefly, “No need.” 

 

Now she was even more frustrated. 

 

“Well… you’re helping me so isn’t that the  _ least _ I could do?” She asked, crossing her arms. 

 

Petyr approached her, placing his hands upon her shoulders and pecking her on the cheek. 

 

“You don’t need to worry about that. I don’t expect you to do anything in return.” He let go of her, walking around and sitting down in his chair. 

 

Sansa turned with him and her frown didn’t disappear as she awkwardly glanced around the room. 

 

“But what if I  _ wanted _ to?” 

 

Petyr gave her an odd look that she couldn’t read and clasped his hands together. 

 

“I would rather you didn’t. These sessions are about  _ you _ , not me. And I’m simply trying to help you out with the issue that you’re having. I need to do a little research but I believe we’ll need to skip a few steps next week and dive into some of the less simple methods.” 

 

Sansa scoffed. “I don’t understand the point of bothering with  _ methods _ . I already told you the one thing that I haven’t done is  _ have sex _ .  _ Penetrative sex _ as you so eloquently called it. Don’t you think that’s what I need?” She was being blunt, horribly blunt and vulgar but what was the point of all this beating around the bush when there was something they could try that had a much higher possibility of success. 

 

Petyr was silent for a moment, cocking his head to the side and furrowing his eyebrows. 

 

“Do you think that  _ sex _ is the solution to your problem? Getting  _ laid?”  _ She swallowed uncomfortably and avoiding eye contact with him. 

 

“I do.” She muttered, feeling a weird sense of shame from the way he had phrased it. 

 

“Perfect. Then there’s what you need to do. I suppose that means you no longer need my help.” 

 

She looked up at him, confused. “What? But didn’t you say you were going to help me?”

 

He raised his eyebrows at her, “Yes. And if you’ve found the solution to your problem then I’ve helped you, haven’t I?” 

 

Her heart was beating nervously in her chest and her eyes burned with frustrated tears. She had the weird feeling that she had upset him or misunderstood something and she didn’t know how or what to do now. 

 

“But… aren’t you going to try it and see if it works? If it doesn’t then can’t we try your other ideas then?” 

 

Petyr sighed, lowering his head and running his thumb over his eyebrows. When he looked back up at her, he looked defeated. 

 

“Sansa… I am not going to fuck you. Not now, not ever.” 

 

She was still standing in the center of the room, looking down at him. But now she wished she had been sitting, her chest was burning with the sting of rejection and she couldn’t control her eyes from watering and running over, sending a few tears rolling down her cheeks. Her foot was bouncing nervously and she sighed, blinking rapidly and avoiding looking anywhere in his direction. 

 

“Why not?” She asked, forcing her voice to come out as evenly as possible though she felt like sobbing. 

 

She could feel Petyr’s eyes on her but he made no move to console her. 

 

“Because it is a risk that I am not willing to take.” 

 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and angrily slapping away the barrage of tears that were now freely rolling down her cheeks. 

 

Why didn’t anybody want her? Most girls had to fend off guys that wanted to have sex with them but not Sansa Stark.  _ No,  _ guys wanted to do  _ everything  _ but with her. Was she not good enough? Were her tits not big enough? Her waist not small enough? What the fuck was it?

“A risk?” She spat, sniffling pathetically. “You could just say that you don’t want me. It would spare you the trouble of coming up with lousy excuses.”

 

“ _ Yes _ , a  _ risk _ !” Petyr snapped, raising his voice. “Of course, I bloody  _ want you _ . Why would you even be standing here if I didn’t?” He sighed, seemingly making an attempt to calm himself down.

 

“If anything were to happen and you were to get pregnant, we would both regret it. Your parents would flay me alive and you would have to deal with the consequences for the rest of your life. So,  _ no _ , I don’t want you to touch me because I don’t want to be anymore tempted than I am with you naked above me, moaning out my name.” 

 

“It’s not like anyone would know it was yours if I got pregnant!” Sansa yelled, barely realizing what she saying but she was burning with anger and rejection and frustration. “I could just say I got drunk at a club and slept with some guy! It’s not like anyone would ever even have to see it! I could just get an abortion!” 

 

Petyr chuckled darkly, covering his face with his hand. “ _ Listen _ to yourself, Sansa. Listen to what is coming out of your mouth. Do you think those things won’t have repercussions? Do you think that you won’t have to deal with those consequences for the rest of your life? It’s not worth it.  _ I _ am not worth it. I must have lost my mind agreeing to this.” 

 

Sansa was practically sobbing now, tears blurring her vision and her face a splotchy wet mess. 

 

“What are you saying?” She asked exasperatedly. 

 

Petyr was silent for a very long moment and just when she accepted that he wasn’t going to respond he stood from his chair, walking until he was standing in front of her and buttoned her shirt closed. 

 

“I’m  _ saying _ … That I am not going to have sex with you. I’m  _ saying _ that we may have to find an alternative. I am  _ saying _ … that if you aren’t okay with that then we need to end this.” 

 

Somewhere along the way he had picked up a tissue and dabbed at her leaky eyes and running nose. 

 

Sansa took a breath to calm herself. She very rarely cried and she wasn’t sure why she had gotten so worked up. She just couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected by Petyr too and that seemed like the road the conversation had been travelling. 

 

“Fine.” Her expectations had been high and her disappointment was twice that. But as long as she could still see him and experience nights like tonight, which had been  _ amazing _ , then she could deal with his terms. 

“Fine?” He echoed, questioningly. 

 

“ _ Fine _ , no sex. Not now not ever.” She clarified.

 

Petyr smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

 

“Good. Go get cleaned up. There are still a few hours until the club closes, and I have a few important calls to make.” 

 

Sansa obediently went into the bathroom, splashing water on her face and wiping away all of the snot and tears with a paper towel. Her underwear felt uncomfortably damp and she wished she had thought to bring a change of them. Instead, she opted for just going commando and took them off, shoving them deep into the back pocket of her shorts. 

 

When she exited the bathroom Petyr was already on the phone and she wondering who in the hell he could be talking to at two in the morning. She plopped down on the couch- that had now been used for exactly the purposes she thought it was for- with a sigh and opened up a game on her phone resigning herself to beating her high score. 

 

Petyr had finished his calls a long while later and the two chatted casually for a while until there was a knock on the door well after four. 

 

Petyr went to get it and Theon stood there looking thoroughly fucked out. 

 

“Hey, Petyr.” He greeted as he stepped into the room. 

 

“Hello, Theon. Have fun tonight?” 

 

“I think he had  _ too _ much fun.” Sansa laughed, gathering her things. 

 

Theon grinned. “Never such a thing as too much fun.” 

 

“I’d say you’re testing that theory.” Petyr responded with a smirk. 

 

“Good night, Petyr.” Sansa said, kissing him on the cheek before he could react. 

 

Theon exited the room behind her and the two walked through the mess of the main area, keeping out of the way of the cleaning crew. They passed Ros on their way out and Sansa nearly had to drag Theon away when he kissed her goodbye. 

 

When they finally got into the car the time on the clock read well after four and nearly five. 

 

“How pissed off do you think Robb is going to be when we get home?” Theon asked with a yawn as he pulled out of the parking spot. 

 

Sansa yawned in return and leaned her head on the window.

 

“It’ll be after five in the morning by the time we get back. I think we’re grounded.” 

 

“Damn.” Theon swore half heartedly. 

 

“But at least you had fun.” Sansa noted. 

 

“Seems like we both had fun.” Theon corrected. 

 

“Mm. Maybe.” Sansa agreed noncommittally.

 

Theon laughed.

 

“Your shirt was definitely tucked in when we got here. And I’m pretty sure your shorts are on backwards.” 

 

Sansa sat up and looked down at them,  _ oh _ , so she didn’t have back pockets on these shorts. 

 

“Fuck.” She swore. 

 

“Might want to be a bit more careful about that.” He teased. 

 

“Yeah, yeah shut it, Theon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for all the love! Keep in coming! It's a challenge for me to keep up with this chapter length (I'm used to 5,000 average) and any and all encouragement helps! See you all next time!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this please let me know, I have so many ideas for this story but I'd like to know if I'm the only one that wants this, haha. I ship them too much. I've never done this before but if you have suggestions for Petyr in regards to Sansa's training please let him know. I'll pass on the message.


End file.
